


Two-Man-Team-Day Revisited

by Ytteb



Series: Two-Man-Team-Day [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Tony and Gibbs alone in the office - silliness ensues and we see different sides to the characters. This is a revisiting of an older story but I don't think you need read that one to understand this one. Mostly Tony and Gibbs but other characters are involved as well.





	Two-Man-Team-Day Revisited

“McGee,” said Tony DiNozzo crossly, “Princess Leia was intelligent, I grant you … but do you _really_ think that’s why so many members of the male sex have fantasized over her for years?”

“Jeez, Tony,” said Timothy McGee, “I was only making conversation … I thought you’d be happy I was talking about movies.”

“When are you going to understand that movies are more than something to _pass the time_?” demanded Tony, “They’re cultural artefacts, mirrors to society, they’re …”

“OK!  I’m sorry!” said McGee, “I’ll remember in the future that I’m not qualified to pass judgement on your _cultural artefacts.”_

Tony was suddenly ashamed of his ill-temper and rubbed his temples wearily.  “No, I’m sorry, McMeansWell.  Not your fault.”  He looked across at his co-worker and then caught a whiff of Bengay as Jethro Gibbs strode past to his desk.  A thoughtful look dawned on his face.

“I’m out of here,” announced McGee as he decided not to risk the wrath of DiNozzo any longer.

“Yeah.  Have a good one,” said Tony absently.

“You going too?” asked Gibbs who was packing up his gear.

“Er … not yet, I’ve got some calls to make,” replied Tony in the same absent tone.

The Gibbs grunt might have been a _good night,_ but Tony was too distracted to translate it.

NEXT DAY

Gibbs arrived to work the next morning and growled when he realised that the squad room was empty.  He snatched his gun out of its holster and slammed it into the drawer; sat down and stabbed the on-button to his computer while looking menacingly around the room.  A number of heads quickly ducked behind the parapets of their work stations.

“Morning, Boss,” came Tony’s cheerful voice.

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed: it wasn’t an encouraging sight.  “DiNozzo!  Where are McGee and Bishop?  They knew to be here early for physical training.”

Tony grinned, “Oh, they got called on to a course – _Federal Geekery for Geeks_.”

“What?” demanded Gibbs as he rose slightly in his chair.  As he rose, the other agents on the floor sank still lower in their seats: they knew it was folly to attract his attention at that moment.  Fortunately for them, it seemed that Agent DiNozzo was in a foolhardy – nay, suicidal – mood.

“Well,” said Tony judicially, “It wasn’t actually _called_ that _¸_ but you get the idea.  It’s an important course for Federal computer experts to go on and ex-Probie and current-Probie haven’t been on it yet.”  He paused to beam at Gibbs and then seemed to think something else was needed, “They were real upset to miss out on the torture … I mean, physical training.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs in an unmollified tone although he did lower himself back into his chair.  “And why were you late?” he asked as another grievance came to mind.

“Ah,” said Tony, continuing to smile, “I had a call to make.”

“You make _calls_ on your own time, DiNozzo; not on _my_ time.”

Tony seemed to ignore this, “I went to get these,” he said and produced two mugs from Gibbs’ favourite coffee shop.  “Here,” he said, “It’s a hot white chocolate, with salted caramel syrup, whipped cream and almond brittle topping.”

The heads which had begun to lift ducked down hurriedly lest this inappropriate beverage be hurled in their direction.

“Hot white chocolate, with salted caramel syrup, whipped cream and almond brittle topping?” repeated Gibbs.

Tony resisted the temptation to step back a yard or two and simply nodded.

Gibbs took the mug and lifted the lid.  He raised the mug and peered at it.  An even more deathly silence fell over the whole floor although some people were calculating how long it would take to reach their weapons if they had to intervene to prevent a homicide.

Gibbs’ eyes met Tony’s over the rim of the mug.  Tony gazed back guilelessly.  Gibbs’ hand twitched.  The hands of fifteen highly trained federal agents twitched towards their phones, ready to summon assistance.  The janitor in the corner wondered how he would get _hot white chocolate, with salted caramel syrup, whipped cream and almond brittle topping_ out of the carpet.

“Thanks, DiNozzo … I mean, Tony,” said Gibbs.  He took a sip of his drink.  The previous silence was broken by the sound of fifteen cell phones clicking as fifteen photos were taken of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs with a whipped cream moustache.

“And,” said Tony, “I got these as well.”  He produced a large cardboard box at which Gibbs squinted trying to identify the logo.

“Is that …?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” said Tony proudly, “It’s from Patsy’s Pastry Paradise.”  He whipped the lid off the box and showed the contents to Gibbs.

“Those look like …”

“Meringue kisses,” confirmed Tony.

“But … but it’s _Tuesday_ ,” said Gibbs.

Fifteen federal agents shook their head in puzzlement at how the conversation was going.  They had begun to think that perhaps Gibbs had suffered another traumatic head injury which had caused some sort of personality change but, they reasoned, at least he still knew what day it was.  They covertly switched on various recording devices and wished that the security cameras picked up sound as well.

“I know,” said Tony, “But I phoned Patsy last night … actually, it isn’t Patsy who runs it now …”

“No?” said Gibbs, gazing distractedly at the contents of the box.

“No, apparently she retired to Florida a few years ago and her daughter took over …”

“She did?”

“Yes, but she kept the name – and the traditions,” said Tony consolingly.

“So, yesterday was Meringue Monday?” said Gibbs.

“Sure.”

“But it’s Tuesday today,” Gibbs pointed out again.”

“Yes.”

“So why have you got _meringues_ when it’s _Truffle_ Tuesday?” asked Gibbs showing the persistence which made him such a feared interrogator.

“Oh,” said Tony, “Like I said, I phoned last night … and when I told her who they were for … she agreed to make a special batch.”

Gibbs sighed and peered into the box again.  It seemed that he finally felt able to believe in the bounty set before him.  “Are those coffee ones?” he asked, pointing to three pale brown meringues with a caramelised topping.

“Yep,” said Tony happily, “And those darker brown ones have bourbon in the cream that sandwiches them together.  Oh, Patsy’s daughter said they’re a bit alcoholic, so it might be best not to have them at work.”

Gibbs took another look at the range of meringue kisses and heaved a happy sigh.  He selected a coffee kiss and then looked guilty.  Fifteen cameras flashed as the unusual expression was captured for posterity.

“Boss?” asked Tony in concern.

“Tony, you love Truffle Tuesday,” said Gibbs almost with a catch in his voice.

“Yes,” said Tony cautiously.

“And you gave it up for me,” said Gibbs.  “You went for Meringue Monday instead.”

“Oh … well, I _would_ have given it up for you,” said Tony, “But in this case I didn’t have to,” he produced another box, “Patsy’s daughter … and I really will have to find out her name … had already started work on Truffle Tuesday so she gave me a box.”

Gibbs’ next words were a little muffled as they were uttered through a coffee kiss, but Tony thought they were probably something like, “Great!”  It didn’t really matter because Tony was mostly occupied with chewing a butterscotch truffle cake … his groan of delight almost drowned out Gibbs’ garbled words.

Gibbs disposed of four meringue kisses before asking casually, “So, Patsy’s Pastry Paradise … does it still do …”

“Whipped Cream Wednesday?  Yes,” replied Tony.

“And Toffee Thursday?” asked Gibbs.

“Yep.  And Flapjack Friday is going great guns.”

“What about Sponge Cake Saturday?”

“Still there … and Syllabub Sunday has been combined with …”

“With what?” asked Gibbs anxiously.

“Savarin Sabbath,” said Tony.

“Ahh,” said Gibbs as he popped another meringue kiss into his mouth.

“You want a truffle cake?” asked Tony generously, even as he eyed up a blueberry meringue kiss.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Gibbs, “Is that pistachio?”  Tony nodded, and Gibbs held out his box of kisses for Tony to select one.

Silence fell as Gibbs and Tony ate contentedly.  The federal agents reluctantly returned to their work although some of them were scheming about how to scrounge some cake for themselves: those who weren’t plotting a raid on Gibbs and Tony were surreptitiously googling the address of Patsy’s Pastry Paradise.

“What drink did you get?” asked Gibbs as he nodded towards Tony’s mug.

“Strong black … it’s called Rocket Fuel,” said Tony with a happy smile.

Gibbs nodded and then asked, “What’s all this about, Tony?”

Tony looked serious for a moment, “I had one of those moments yesterday.”

“I thought Ducky gave you pills for those,” said Gibbs in concern.

“Oh,” said Tony hastily, “Not one of _those_ moments!  No, it was one of those … what do you call them … _epiphany_ moments!”

“Oh,” said Gibbs in relief.  “What did the epiphany moment tell you.”

“I got cross with McGee … and I realised it wasn’t his fault; he was trying his best.  But I’ve been irritable for a while.  And then I smelled …”

“What?”

“You.”

“Me?  I don’t smell,” said Gibbs in an offended tone.

“Well, with respect, Boss, you do,” said Tony, “But it’s a nice smell,” he added hastily, “Sort of Old Spice, wood shavings and coffee.  And yesterday there was something else.”

“What?” asked Gibbs suspiciously.

“Bengay,” said Tony simply.

“Ah.”

“And I guessed that your knee was playing up again.”

“Hmm.”

“And I figured that might be why you’ve been a bit … grumpy recently.”

“Huh,” said Gibbs noncommittally.  He took a sip of his coffee, “And that led to this?”  He gestured towards the drinks and cakes.

“Yes,” said Tony, “Made me realise we hadn’t done _Two-Man-Team-Day_ for years … not since before Bishop joined us.”

“No, I guess not,” said Gibbs thoughtfully.

“And I thought maybe it was time we did,” said Tony.  “You know, let our _softer_ side come out for a change.  Admit that sometimes you like sweet creamy things and sometimes I like …”

“Strong bitter things,” completed Gibbs.

“But that we don’t really want McJuniorAgent and Bish to know … not sure they’d cope with knowing we have another side to us.  Don’t want to rock their worlds too much.  And besides, they’ll like being on their geek course.”

“I guess,” said Gibbs.

“So I checked we didn’t have anything urgent on.  Arranged with the Director for any new cases to go to Balboa today … got the kids on to their course … and cleared the decks.  Thought you could help me work out how my new phone works …”

“I could do that,” said Gibbs, “Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun having Tim think I’m a phone dinosaur … but sometimes I miss being able to bring my iPhone to work.”

“I know,” said Tony sympathetically, “Hey, have you pre-ordered the new model?”

“Of course,” said Gibbs scornfully, “Went on line as soon as the site opened.  Hey, what do you need sorting on your cell?”

Tony explained the problem with a new cookery app. Gibbs soon solved the issue and suggested three other apps he might found useful.  With the cakes eaten, beverages drunk, and cell phone sorted, Gibbs turned to Tony and asked, “Got anything else planned?”

Tony grinned, “You remember that time … years ago … the last Two-Man-Team-Day?”

“Sure.”

“We were on our way to Rock Creek Park …”

“But it came on to rain and we decided to go to the indoor Moon Bounce theme park instead,” said Gibbs.

“That’s right.  Well, I checked the forecast and it’s set fair, so I thought we could go to Rock Creek Park.  I’ve packed a picnic – it’s in the car.”

“Well,” said Gibbs, “I’m not sure …”

“Gibbs!”

“I’ve got work to do!  _You’ve_ got work to do.”

“But, Boss …”

“We’re federal agents, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs sternly, “We can’t go off on a picnic just because we’re getting irritable.”

“Gibbs …”

“No,” said Gibbs firmly, “We can’t go.”

Tony stared at him disconsolately and then sighed and turned back to his desk.  A stifled sound from Gibbs’ direction made him spin around, “That second B really does stand for bastard, doesn’t it?” he said when he saw Gibbs trying not to laugh.

“You’re too easy sometimes,” said Gibbs.  “Come on.  Grab your gear … your picnic gear!”

“On your six, Boss!”

NCISNCIS

“This was good,” said Gibbs a few hours later as they sat underneath a large oak tree with the remains of a substantial picnic scattered around them.

“Yes,” said Tony sleepily, “Makes a change to come here and not find a dead body,” he hastily reached out and touched the tree, “Touch wood,” he added.

“Didn’t know you were superstitious,” said Gibbs mildly.

“I’m not,” said Tony, “But with the luck this team has, I’m not taking any chances.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Gibbs as he casually reached out to pat the tree.

“Oh,” said Tony, “Something else …”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve arranged for Carlo to upgrade the squad room while we’re out.”

“Carlo?”

“You remember – the Feng Shui master you had visit your basement because of the negative _Qi_ in your basement …”

“Oh yeah.”

“I got to wondering whether the negative force in the squad room is down to some bad _Qi._   I thought I’d get Carlo to look around while there was nobody there …”  Tony trailed off, wondering if he’d gone too far.

“Good idea,” said Gibbs calmly, “And I might get him to take another look at the basement – I think things might need their aura untangling down there.”

“Great,” said Tony, “I’ll call him.”  It seemed, however, that the effort (after so much food) was too much, “Later,” mumbled Tony as he settled down for a snooze. 

Gibbs looked at him with a tolerant smile and, soon after, also stretched out for a nap.

An hour later, the two men awoke and began to look among the picnic remains for something to eat.

“You know,” said Gibbs, “I’m surprised Leon let you do all this.”

“Well …”

“And that Ducky didn’t ask to come too,” observed Gibbs.

“Actually, Boss,” said Tony, “The Director did have a condition.”

“What was that?” asked Gibbs who was still in a mellow mood.

“That he came too,” admitted Tony.

“Ah.”

“Said he wanted to show us the crochet throw he’s making.”

“Sounds good.  And Ducky?”

“He’s coming too.  In fact, here he comes,” said Tony pointing down the hill.

Gibbs sat up a little straighter, “Why’s he dressed like that?  And who are all those people?”

“Ducky’s joined a Morris Dance troupe,” said Tony. 

“A what?”

“They do a kind of folk dance.”

“Are those …”

“Yes, sticks – they bang them.”

“And around their ankles …”

“Yep, bells … they sort of jingle.”

“Why’s the whole troupe come?” asked Gibbs.

“They’re going to do a demonstration,” explained Tony.  “And then …”

“And then, what?” asked Gibbs suspiciously.

“Then they thought they might teach us a dance … or two,” said Tony anxiously.

He did not need to worry, the Two-Man-Team-Day magic had worked again.  “Sounds good,” said Gibbs, “Could do with a bit of exercise … are they bringing food as well?”

At that moment, they heard Ducky call out a cheerful greeting, “Good afternoon, gentlemen!  I hope you’ve got room for a traditional Scottish afternoon tea!”

Gibbs’ last fear was laid to rest and he waved a welcome.

Meanwhile, back in the squad room, Carlo moved the desks a fraction and rearranged Gibbs’ computer screens into a more harmonious setting.  “Although,” he murmured, “I don’t know why the man has so many computers on his desk when he can barely switch just one on.”  He turned to consider his work and nodded with satisfaction.  As a last touch he put an essential oil diffuser on each desk and gave the lemon geranium plant on the filing cabinet a drink of water.  “Much better,” he said.

NCISNCIS

Agents McGee and Bishop were first into the office the next day.

“Wow,” said Ellie, “I feel so much better for having been on that course.”

“Me too,” said Tim.  “Is it me, or does it feel different here?”

Bishop looked around, “I don’t know.  I know what you mean, it feels sort of calm and restful … but perhaps that’s just because Gibbs isn’t in yet,” she lowered her voice and looked around anxiously.

“I guess,” said McGee uncertainly, “It smells nice anyway.”

“How do you think they got on yesterday?” asked Bishop.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, Gibbs and Tony – left alone,” explained Ellie, “I can’t picture it.”

“Ah,” said McGee, “I think they’ll be all right.  In fact, sometimes when they have a day together, they seem to cheer up.  Don’t know how that works.”

Gibbs and Tony were standing in Gibbs’ sweet spot listening in to their co-workers’ conversation.  They smiled, they were in accord once more and knew _how it worked_.

“Don’t leave it so long, next time,” said Gibbs sternly.  But he smiled as he said it and accompanied it with a gentle pat to Tony’s head.

“On it, Boss,” said Tony.

“And Tony,” said Gibbs, “Do you want to check out Patsy’s Syllabub Sunday and Savarin Sabbath this weekend … sounds good.”

“On your six, Boss,” grinned Tony.

And then they wiped the grins off their faces and strode towards their desks.

From _their_ vantage point outside the Director’s office, Vance and Ducky smiled smugly at each other. 

“I think, Leon, that harmony has been restored once more,” said Ducky.

“Yes, you were right to suggest a Two-Man-Team-Day,” said Vance.

Ducky accepted the praise gracefully, “If I may say so, Director it was a master stroke to talk to Timothy about Princess Leia.”

Leon nodded gravely, “Thank you.  It occurred to me that it would probably make Agent McGee talk to Tony about the _Leia_ phenomenon.”

“And it did.  And you were right that the word _Leia_ would trigger something in Anthony.”

“Although,” said the Director, “I was a little anxious about what exactly it would trigger …”

“Indeed,” acknowledged Ducky, “But you were right.  It made him think of _ley_ lines … and activities on previous Two-Man-Team-Days … and once he remembered those, we were home and dry.”

“A pleasure doing business with you, Dr Mallard,” said Leon graciously.

“And with you, Director.  And I do hope that your head is recovering from the blow you took from Marianne … I fear she is more enthusiastic than skilled in her wielding of the stick …”

“I’m fine,” said Vance, “Or at least, I will be – in a few days.  And it was worth it … the memory of seeing Jethro and Tony with bells tied on their legs will lighten many dreary meetings in the years to come.”

“Indeed,” smiled Ducky.  “Is it me, or does there seem to be a more _harmonious_ atmosphere since Carlo’s ministrations?  Perhaps I should ask him to visit autopsy … you will understand that I have a healthy scepticism about the efficacy of Feng Shui, but it is …”

The Director remembered an urgent meeting and slipped away.

Downstairs, Gibbs and Tony wore their customary expressions and drank their usual drinks but, beneath the surface, harmony had indeed been restored.

**Author's Note:**

> Four years on from the first story, I decided I wanted to revisit the silliness. 
> 
> I don’t know how popular Morris Dancing is in the US – it’s a lively folk dance and is quite widespread in the UK. I could imagine it being something Ducky would enjoy.
> 
> As always, I don’t own the characters and have put them back in the box – Gibbs and Tony probably on a sugar high but, hopefully, on the same wavelength once more. If only!


End file.
